Reindeer Games
by jaqueline-littlebird
Summary: Pre-Christmas story. Tony wants to party, but Pepper has him scheduled for a charity event. He wants to send Loki instead, but will the trickster god let himself be pushed around like that? Rated for some language.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Belated Christmas story which I didn't finish over the holidays. At least it's up the same year yet. May I please have some reviews as belated Christmas presents?

Disclaimer: Still Marvel's, not mine, even though I asked Father Christmas for Loki repeatedly.

suggested music: "Expensive Being Poor" by TV Smith, or "Frohes Fest" by Die Toten Hosen

* * *

**Reindeer Games**

The attachment showed Pinky and The Brain. The speech bubbles read:

„What are we going to do tomorrow?"

„The same we do every day: We try to take over the world. But first, we'll join the Massachusetts Institute of Technology Christmas celebration."

Tony contemplated it. Seeing the alumni once again. Party with like-minded guys, not all those shallow playmates and celebrities. Watch 'The Hitch Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy' and drink pan-galactic gargle blaster at midnight. What would Rhodey use as special ingredient this time, he wondered.

They'd been through tabasco, salt and crème de menthe. Tony could swear there once had been hair conditioner in it, even though the bar crew all denied it. Could they perhaps even revive the Beta Delta Sigma Mu fraternity, or were too many spoken for? That would be such fun. Maybe he should bring a professional.

In any case, it was high time to get in touch with younger scientists again. Stark Industries needed the brightest minds and all the fresh ideas. Human resources always only brought in defectors from Hammer Industries, who really weren't all that skilled, or political refugees from Latveria, well trained but too cowed to propose anything groundbreaking.

On the other hand, there was this charity event Pepper had scheduled, in one of the malls he now owned. Some medium-sizend business consortium had fumbled with bids on a city plot or something, resulting in that he now owned them.

Pep insisted diversification was a good thing, but really – malls? Crowded labyrithic places selling trash nobody needed, staffed with pesky shop assistants who had no idea how all the gadgets they'd try to force upon you worked.

Nonetheless, the press would expect him to show his face in the nearest of _his_ malls. To play Santa for poor children, handing out cheap toys, sticky tasteless sweets and maybe some of these brain-frying shooter games.

Pep had tried to bribe him with the burgers and shawarma he could have there after the event. Stark tower was mostly vegetarian these days, since the Asgardians had moved in. Apparently, food up there in wonderland consisted of pork roast with ham and sausages day in, day out all year, since that was all the Sæhrímnir food replication system could produce. After centuries of that, it was no wonder Thor fell upon non-meat food from poptarts to gherkin like a starving grizzly.

_'Do your civic duty, Tony!'_ - as if Howard had risen from the grave. Now Tony understood why Thor spent so much time down here, if Ohdear was the same, or Friggid. But he was Tony Stark the Iron Man, business owner, pushed around by no-one. He'd do as he pleased.

„Jarvis? Wake me before noon tomorrow and have the Mark 7 polished. I'll fly to Cambridge; can't risk one of the Lamborghinis on the road in this weather. Cancel all afternoon events and everything the day after but don't tell Pepper before I'm on my way. And have Happy pick me up for the back ride in case I'll be too drunk to fly. Unlikely. Well, better on the safe side, right?"

„Very well sir. May I suggest sending the Odinsson brothers to the mall in your stead? Mr Thor enjoys public events."

Yeah, that he did. And Loki needed more good deeds. And he'd _hate_ to be on display. The costume, too. Not to mention the children. Jarvis knew it, Tony knew it. Neither had forgiven the defenestration yet. They chuckled in predated schadenfreude. Let the ex-villain pick up the slack; party, here I come! He clicked the e-mail shut.

* * *

„Brother! Where did you get that stag from? Are there hunting grounds nearby this city after all?"

„You know me, Thor – teleportation, skywalking … Some herdsmen in this realm hire their livestock out for the festivities. And don't you harm the antlered fellow! I'll have to return him whole and hale, or some people would be sorely disappointed."

Antlers? Stag? Tony's head still swam. Why was he looking at Loki's leather-clad ass while standing anyway? Wasn't he standing? He wanted to ask Jarvis to send Dummy with an Alka-Seltzer. Out came a grunt, on second try a bleat.

The god of evil … mischief … nasty smugly grinning bastard cat-ate-canary mad Joker turned around, patting his shoulder. Withers. Whut?

„There, there, my friend, don't fret. Uncle Loki will care well for you. There will be water, and a bale of hay ..."

Tony stood stock-still with shock. So this was not a dream? That shimmer of magic, the vague nausea, bones stretching … Maybe instructing Jarvis only to play AC/DC whenever Reindeer Games requested music had not been the best of ideas after all. At least not after the third warning.

„Brother are you sure we should ..."

„Of course, Thor. See here how he hardly moves? A docile one, he is. He will be perfect with the children, giving them rides and all, you'll see."

„Or else." the god of bearing grudges whispered into Tony's ear. Minding the antlers, naturally.

* * *

Hell. Living hell. Not for Thor – Point Break was having fun allright, even with a fake white beard and wearing robe and Santa cap (strangely, both dull grey), bouncing one child after the other on his knee, handing them sweets and pre-wrapped packages if they promised to be good and slay all Dark Elves or some rotten such.

Tony himself was hot, and thirsty. Hay and water, great; he'd be damned before he'd drink plain stupid water, from the cleaning lady's bucket no less. But he couldn't get away, even if the worst god ever (currently glamoured green with pointy ears, featuring as Christmas Elf) had not tethered him to the handrail.

No point in breaking free if you still need to be turned back into your normal pleasing self. Being a reindeer sucked. Wearing a blinking plastic nose upon your nostrils sucked big time. At least it wasn't red, and not very bright.

„Poor Rudy! That is downright cruel!" A girl-child's voice.

„Calm down, it's not so bad. Deer can't see the colour red. He ..." and now the bespectacled boy bent down to take a peek under Tony's hind legs, much to the ungulate's embarrassment. At least he didn't need to pee yet. One more reason not to partake of the water. As tempting as it was to pee on Space Smurf's boots, but in front of all people?

„Yeah, it's a he. He pro'ly barely notices his nose blinks. Hunters wear those orange vests, you know, and the elk and moose don't notice them."

So that was why Thor's robe looked grey. Come to think of it, all of the decorations around appeared devoid of shades of red.

„Of course it's a 'he' – he has antlers. Only bucks have antlers." The skinny dark-haired girl spoke up.

„No, with reindeer, males and females both have antlers. And it's _'stags'_, not _'bucks'_."

„Okay."

A plump, dark-skinned girl joined them. Despite the winter weather, she was in leggings and old worn-out sneakers. „Hey, simple logic: Management would never hire a girl-deer, right? This is Stark Mall now. Only the best for Uncle Scrooge, and if they have to fly in a reindeer-_stag_, yes Timmy, from Canada. I wanna know what that cost. Mom's still on minimum wage. At least she gets the hours now."

Hours? They had to work overtime this time of year. Paid overtime of course, unlike some self-employed inventors with a business to run besides and 24/7 save-the-world on-call duty. Tony snorted. That drew the childrens' attention back to him, talking nearly all at once.

„Maybe he's ill?"

„Poor Rudolph."

„Can he even reach the water?"

„Or maybe it's too hot in here?"

Hot, it was. Like a sauna. Not much longer and he'd give in and drink the washwater after all.

„Sure. Now that you mention it: Reindeer have extremely warm fur, for land mammals. Still superior to high tech gear. The Chukchi people in Siberia ..."

„Mebbe we should feed him a popsicle?"

„You do that. I'm broke. Mom's still paying off the propane bill. We're booked for charity Christmas dinner at the church."

„Oh shit. Still living in your grampa's trailer?"

„Yeah and he's really losing it. Tried to shoot the neighbour's dog last week, talks about Aliens and Taleban all of the time. We filled out all the forms for vets' care but he won't sign them; he says he's fine. Mom's gonna have a breakdown before New Year, I bet."

„Hey we could threaten to sue them for cruelty to animals, then drop the charges if they pay you some. I mean look at him, he's not that well. Win-win."

Tony couldn't agree more. Wait, what? Was he mentally supporting these childrens' plan to sue himself out of some big bucks – stags … popsicle … what? Dzzzz. Dizzy. So hot here. He buried his muzzle in the bucket after all.

The blinking snout device short-circuited, zapping him; he jerked. As he could have predicted, but he didn't care. Blessedly cool water! No matter what it tasted like. As good as back then in the desert in Afghanistan.

Outraged voices brought him back to the present. Animal cruelty, underwool, insulation, hell yeah. Peter Pan sauntered over.

„Normally the airstream cools him."

„Don't tell us reindeer fly, mister. We are not little children anymore."

„Upon my honour: This one does. Well, anyway, not currently."

The Elf of Mischief eyed him up. „But you kids can feed him if you like. That grocery over there – just tell them it's for me and on the house; bring what you think appropriate."


	2. Chapter 2

„I see you have made some friends, Iron Hoof."

Riddler patting him again. If only he had sharp straight pointy horns, like a whatstheirname? Something Dutch – wildebeest, springbok, Gamestar, Gamestop, gemsbok?

„I wonder, were they right? I've never made a study of Midgard's animals. Nod if you are overheated."

Tony nodded wildly, yanking on his tether. Unused to the wide range of his antlers, he toppled a small decorative Christmas tree, a pile of gift boxes, and the water bucket.

„Stop thrashing. Here, better?" Ice-cold air surrounded him, the trickster god's hands blue. Much, much better.

„My sincere apologies. Know that I never meant to cause you harm. You know, you could pound a hoof or bleat in Morse code if you need help again. One would think a genius of your calibre ..."

Yeah, sure, asshole, if I had thought you would care …

The returning children interrupted them, bringing armloads full of food and softdrink bottles. A woman in sales staff uniform with a likeness to the pudgy girl was with them. Cursing crazy management who ever increased workload, she started mopping up the floor. The billionnaire paid her no mind, focusing on the food and drinks.

„Hey off! Down, Rudolph! Gosh, that's got to be the most stupid reindeer ever. He wants to eat my chicken sandwich!"

Stupid? No reindeer before had had a degree in aerospace engineering.

„Maybe he wants the bread? You could give him some, I think, but no meat; that can't be healthy."

„What do they normally eat out there in the tundra?"

„I think lichen mostly, and some grasses during summer. Probably birch and willow twigs too if available. And I've read they eat fly agaric mushrooms and get high on them."

Really? Cleverer than he'd given them credit for, those beasts. Clearly you couldn't rely on tourists leaving half-full vodka bottles if you wanted a good buzz out there.

„The drug passes unprocessed, so the arctic people used to drink the reindeer pee and got high on that as well ..."

„Ewww, Timmy, stop it!"

„Do you think this one here has eaten mushrooms?"

„He _does _look glassy-eyed."

Most certainly not! Now, whisky on the other hand …

„No it's probably too long from Canada, he should be rid of that by now."

„Let's feed him. Here, good rainy-deary."

Tony discovered he loathed lettuce even while ruminant. Arugula was way too hot. Bread tasted nice until he reached the mustard stains. Carrots were a bit hard, apples too large. Popsicles though – extra yummy. Cucumber-smoothie wasn't that bad either, at least it was nicely cold. Too bad he could not order a Bloody Mary.

The childrens' chatter filled him in on this and that while eating. The velvet from a stag's growing antlers was highly valued as an aphrodisiac in eastern Asia. (Hehe, great. Perhaps he could keep some after changing back for later use? Not that _Iron _Man needed it, of course.)

Mass and air resistance indicated reindeer could not fly. (As if he didn't know.) But then, Thor couldn't either. (Valid point.)

They tried to calculate how much money this PR event might cost, and how many customers would have to spend an extra two bucks on a softdrink while watching the show to make it profitable, but wound up short – too many unknown variables.

The pudgy girl's mother (now finished sweeping and hurriedly running back to her workplace) was on open availability, meaning 24/7 on-call but only on work and getting paid during busy hours when needed. Okay, that sucked.

„ … and he owns half a dozen Lamborghinis ..."

Fifteen. He owned _fifteen_ Lamborghinis. Not a pitiful half dozen. Not to mention the Porsches and Ferraris.

„What's that?"

„Italian sports car. Each one costs more than my mom makes in ten years."

„Wow."

„Newest one is the 'Veneno'. Top speed 220 mph. The Bugatti Veyron 16.4 is faster: 257, and could go faster still engine-wise if not for the tyres, also quicker to accelerate, but the Veneno looks much cooler - like the Batmobile."

Yes, and the slugs in Sant'Agata had delivered three weeks behind schedule, with the poor excuse those little extras he'd demanded took some time.

„But half a dozen? He can only drive one at a time."

What's that got to do with anything? By that logic he could only own one pair of socks.

„You tell me. Apparently, all that money they save on not providing healthcare for employees needs to go somewhere."

The skinny girl leaned over, whispering: „Hey we could ask for a reindeer ride. Then you fall off, play-act a screaming fit and sue them for your college money. Is that a plan?"

„But I don't want to ride no reindeer. What if I really get injured?"

Tony exhaled slowly, relieved. Talking about cruelty to animals. If that dumpling climbed onto his back …

„Col-lege mo-ney! Big rewards require sacrifices. Man up! Do you want to get stuck in a crap job like your mother?"

„I'd look so stupid. I can't even get up there. All the kids there in the line would laugh and upload it on YouTube. _'Fat girl scrambling up reindeer, falls off'_. Ten million clicks."

„Then you sue them too: compensation for pain and suffering!"

„Won't work, no luck. And I don't want everyone to laugh at me. Bad enough I'll have to sing with the other employees' chilren later on."

„Sing?"

„In an hour, for the evening news. The happy children sing a song for the superhero shtick."

Okay, Pepper was diligent, but this? She knew he hated non-hardrock music attempts. Who on earth …

* * *

A brawny boy came barrelling through the bystanders, wielding a plastic hammer like a hockey stick.

„Out of my way, shit-tauri! I got a hammer from the mighty Thor himself! Take that, you losers!"

Blows rained down on the smaller boy who ducked, protecting his glasses. Now that was gross, but Tony couldn't intervene, tied to the handrail as he was. The girls tried to wrestle off the bully, who hit them too, jeering something about non-cheerleaders.

If he turned by 52 degrees and kicked that soda can just right he could hit that fire alarm button on the wall. Or should he resort to desperate bleating?

Just then, Riddles intervened.

„What have we here? Young man, I am so sorry, we made a grave mistake."

All children gave him blank stares. Tony too.

„A young warrior like you deserves his hammer to be signed, don't you think? An autograph by the mighty Thor himself? Would you not say you're worthy?"

Of course the boy thought himself worthy. While being ushered back towards Thunder-Santa, he started filling Loki in on his hockey and football prowess, much to the beaten kids' dismay. Tony too thought it not fair. He wrinkled his nose – snout. The red device fell off. He stepped on it.

„One word of advice: A worthy warrior does not attack the ladies."

„Ain't no ladies, they are nerds!"

„Very well then, I am sure. Here you go. Thor? Thor, a boon to our special friend here. Would you sign his gift, in runes? It is a mortal custom, if you please."

* * *

„That's so unfair. Now I don't want no present for myself from those guys any more." was the 'nerd' comment upon seeing the bully waltz off with his toy hammer with genuine Thor autograph (probably worth some bucks on eBay now). Their green envy lasted only a few yards, though, when that boy – now with his parents – hit a smaller child once more and his hammer changed into a Malibu Stacy doll in pink frilly dress. He threw a tantrum, but the parents dragged him on.

„Worthiness spell." whispered the Joker.

Allright, finally a good use for that magic.

„And what about you children now, who cared so commendably for my vehicle expert quadruped?"

„He still can't fly, I don't believe it, unless I see it with my own eyes."

„Mister, don't you want to take him outside some time soon? Or get a litter box? I mean he ate and drank quite a lot."

Now that someone said it, yes, there was this increasing problem.

„Worry not, young mortals. Let nature run its course. I'm sure Mr Stark will hand out some extra gratification for all the hard-working people who clean up after this fell beast. After all, we are here for a press event."

He wouldn't, would he? Have him pee in front of the cameras, then tell everyone … or even change him back that instant …

* * *

He didn't, thankfully. And Thor handled the press guys perfectly in Tony's 'absence'. But Stark was made to suffer through the entire employees' childrens' sing-along performance.

„Tony the superhero

has a red and shiny suit.

And like all superheroes

he fights evil and does good.

All of the grateful humans

cheer him and they praise his name.

Also, his taste in music

adds to his so glorious fame."

Oh God. Earplugs! A billion for some earplugs.

„Tony with your jets so bright

won't you save the world tonight?"

Just then it happened. Cucumber smoothie : bladder – 1:0. He'd have to hack into YouTube and delete some files later on.

* * *

The god of mischief offered cookies to the singers afterwards, which nearly all of them turned down. Not so the girl he knew already with the interest in sports cars, and her friends.

„What is that?"

„Would you eat that yourself?"

„Does it taste good?"

„Is it healthy for humans?"

„Does it have any special effects?"

„I am glad you asked. Yes, they do have special effects and won't do you harm. What precisely you'll have to find out. As for the taste – great sacrifices award great rewards?"

That smirk!

And then, the horror-question: „Are they okay for reindeer too?"

„Of course they are. Full grain spelt with hand-picked berries, all organic, no added sugar. The epitome of healthfood, I assure you. Flavours are magic; no additives. Have some, please!"

Tony caught a glance at the package, a simple brown paper bag with the trickster god's neat handwriting on it: _Loki Liesmith's Almost Every Effect Cookies. Flavours: tripe, kale, cod liver oil, earwax, blowfly, coprolite._

Yuck. Hadn't they confiscated the horrid stuff past Halloween from him? Must have made more than one batch.

The slim girl hesitantly took one and nibbled.

„Eww. Tastes like fish."

A shiver went over her, then her skin glinted with a silvery shimmer, like – fish scales? Her hair went spotted yellow.

„Coooool! Wow!"

„Does it last?"

„I want a cookie too now. Please?"

Riddles smiled. Yea, supervillains love admirers. Fucking peacock.

„Here you are. Try them out, have fun! And worry not; effects don't last much longer than an hour."

The children happily scampered off, eating on the way, talking about school projects and videos they wanted to make with this. Now and then a tyrannosaur roar was to be heard among much giggling, or one of them would blow smoke from their ears.

When the slim girl suggested selling some to Hammer Industries for analysis, Tony had his New Years resolution: set up a college stipend fund for gifted children. His company could sure use some sports car engineer, and lawyers always came in handy. Maybe even a field biologist could find a niche. Oh, and he'd sit down some guys from the middle management and lay down rules about fair work contracts for all employees. And he'd analyze some of these magic cookies for himself, dammit. Or maybe even ask the god responsible.

Thinking about cookies and the devil … Peter Pan rammed one such item into his mouth (muzzle). He swallowed before the taste could get to him. Magic washed over him, and he felt … light?

„Ladies and gentlemen, it has been a wonderful day with you all. And now for the highlight of the event! I'm sorry, it's not Tony Stark, the famous Iron Man, our gracious host. He had an urgent charity event to attend today from what I hear. Probably something about lonely girls."

Laughter from the journalists.

„It's that time of year, isn't it, when no-one wants to be alone. See now, instead, our special guest: Freya, goddess of beauty! Applause!"

Men stared. Some parents covered their childrens' eyes. Thor stood and looked around expectantly. Loki nodded to him. „Nice dress, Freya."

From naught to sixty in a heartbeat; enraged thundergod coming for them (for Loki), Mjölnir sizzling with electricity. Thunder boomed outside. People srceamed and scattered.

Reindeer Games jumped onto Tony's back and Tony flew, zig-zagging like a blowfly, out through the Mjölnir-shattered roof, across the city, dodging lightning strikes, Conan on his heels.

* * *

„He tricked me! He told me it was Midgardian custom to wear such a garment for the occasion, even as a man!"

„Thor? Thor! Calm down. It is. Do you hear me? Our men do wear such robes for such events. You weren't made a spectacle. All's well. Calm down. And let him up, please."

All's well? Except for the repair bill for the mall roof. Maybe the media attention was worth it. Bless Pepper's heart. He wouldn't mind though if they'd leave the Christmas Elf trapped under Conan's hammer a bit longer.

Back in human form inside his tower, Tony Stark stayed hidden. Nobody was to learn he'd been that reindeer, he'd never live it down. Better to stick with the playboy partying excuse and try to make it up to Pepper somehow.

In the living room, the brothers seemed to have reconciled.

„ … leftover joke articles from Halloween, when you guys locked me up in the Hulk cell I know not why. I had planned to celebrate with the Chaos Computer Club ..."

* * *

Tony quietly instructed Jarvis to play music other than his own list too from now on for reasonable amounts of time, particularly if Loki requested. Maybe gothic and symphonic rock were tolerable too.

Later in the evening, the two Asgardians sat on the couch by the Christmas tree, drinking glögg.

„Brother, what are we going to do tomorrow?"

„The same we supervillains do every day, Thor: We try to take over the world."

Thor's face of utter horror was the best Christmas present Tony got that year. Maybe the day of inconvenient shapeshifting had been worth it.

* * *

A/N: Please forgive any inaccuracies regarding the sports cars you may have noticed. Not my area of expertise.

Happy New Year!


End file.
